a series of their own manoeuvres, taking advantage of Temeraire’s unusual flying capabilities, which could be fitted into the slower and more methodical pace of the formation. Celeritas himself had spoken of designing such manoeuvres, but the pressing need for the formation had forced him to put aside the plan for the immediate future.
Laurence salvaged an old flight-table from the attics, recruited Hollin’s help to repair its broken leg, and set it up in Temeraire’s clearing under his dragon’s interested eyes. It was a sort of vast diorama set upon a table, with a latticework on top; Laurence did not have a set of the proper scale figures of dragons to hang from it, but he substituted whittled and coloured bits of wood, and by tying these with bits of thread from the lattice, they were able to display three-dimensional positions for each other’s consideration.
Temeraire from the beginning displayed an intuitive grasp of aerial movement. He could instantly declare whether a manoeuvre was feasible or not, and describe the movements necessary to bring it about if so; the initial inspiration for a new manoeuvre was most often his. Laurence in turn could better assess the relative military strengths of various positions, and suggest such modifications as would improve the force which might be brought to bear.
Their discussions were lively and vocal, and attracted the attention of the rest of his crew; Granby tentatively asked to observe, and when Laurence gave leave, was shortly followed by the second lieutenant, Evans, and many of the midwingmen. Their years of training and experience gave them a foundation of knowledge which both Laurence and Temeraire lacked, and their suggestions further refined the design.
‘Sir, the others have asked me to propose to you that perhaps we might try some of the new manoeuvres,’ Granby said to him, some few weeks into the project. ‘We would be more than happy to sacrifice our evenings to the work; it would be infamous not to have a chance of showing what he can do.’
Laurence was deeply moved, not merely by their enthusiasm, but by seeing that Granby and the crew felt the same desire to see Temeraire acknowledged and approved. He was very glad indeed to find the others as proud of and for Temeraire as he himself was. ‘If we have enough hands present tomorrow evening, perhaps we may,’ Laurence said.
Every officer from his three runners on up was present ten minutes early. Laurence looked over them a little bemused as he and Temeraire descended from their daily trip to the lake; he only now realized, with all of them lined up and waiting, that his aerial crew wore their full uniforms, even now in this impromptu session. The other crews were often to be seen without coats or neckcloths, particularly in the recent heat; he could not help but take this as a compliment to his own habit.
Mr. Hollin and the ground crew were also ready and waiting; even though Temeraire was inclined to fidget in his excitement, they swiftly had him in his combat-duty harness, and the aerial crew came swarming aboard.
‘All aboard and latched on, sir,’ Granby said, taking up his own launch position on Temeraire’s right shoulder.
‘Very well. Temeraire, we will begin with the standard clear-weather patrol pattern twice, then shift to the modified version on my signal,’ Laurence said.
Temeraire nodded, his eyes bright, and launched himself into the air. It was the simplest of their new manoeuvres, and Temeraire had little difficulty following it; the greater problem, Laurence saw at once, as Temeraire pulled out of the last corkscrewing turn and back into his standard position, would be in accustoming the crew. The riflemen had missed at least half their targets, and Temeraire’s sides were stained where the lightly weighted sacks full of ash that stood for bombs in practice had hit him instead of falling below.
‘Well, Mr. Granby, we have some work ahead of us before we can make a creditable showing of it,’ Laurence said, and Granby nodded ruefully.
‘Indeed, sir; perhaps if he flew a little slower at first?’ Granby said.
‘I think perhaps we must adjust our thinking as well,’ Laurence said, studying the pattern of ash marks. ‘We cannot be hurling bombs during these quick turns he makes, there is no way we can be sure of missing him. So we cannot work steadily: we must wait and release the equivalent of a full broadside in the moments when he is level. We will be at greater risk of missing a target entirely, but that risk can be borne; the other cannot.’
Temeraire flew in an easy circuit while the topmen and bellmen hastily adjusted their bombing gear; this time, when they attempted the manoeuvre again, Laurence saw the sacks falling away, and there were no fresh marks to be seen on Temeraire’s sides. The riflemen, also waiting for the level parts of the run, improved their record as well, and after half-a-dozen repetitions, Laurence was well-satisfied with the results.
‘When we can deliver our full allotment of bombs and achieve perhaps an eighty-per cent success rate in our gunnery, on this and the other four new manoeuvres, I will consider our work worth bringing to Celeritas’s attention,’ Laurence said, when they had all dismounted and the ground crew were stripping Temeraire and polishing the dust and grime off his hide. ‘And I think it eminently achievable: I commend all of you, gentlemen, on a most creditable performance.’
Laurence had previously been sparing with his praise, not wishing to seem as though he was courting the crew’s affections, but now he felt he could scarcely be overly enthusiastic, and he was pleased to see the heartfelt response of his officers to the approval. They were uniformly eager to continue, and after another four weeks of practice, Laurence was indeed beginning to think them ready to perform for a wider audience when the decision was taken from his hands.
‘That was an interesting variation you were flying last evening, Captain,’ Celeritas said to him at the end of the morning session, as the dragons of the formation landed and the crews disembarked. ‘Let us see you fly it tomorrow in formation.’ With that he nodded and dismissed them, and Laurence was left to call together his crew and Temeraire for a hasty final practice.
Temeraire was inclined to be anxious, late that evening, after the others had gone back inside and he and Laurence were sitting quietly together in the dark, too tired to do more than rest in each other’s company.
‘Come, do not let yourself fret,’ Laurence said. ‘You will do very well tomorrow; you have mastered all of the manoeuvres from beginning to end. We have been holding back only to give the crew better mastery.’
‘I am not very worried about the flying, but what if Celeritas does not approve of the manoeuvres?’ Temeraire said. ‘We would have wasted all our time to no purpose.’
‘If he thought the manoeuvre wholly unwise, he would never have solicited us,’ Laurence said. ‘And in any case our time has not been wasted in the least; the crew have all learned their work a good deal better for having to give more attention and thought to their tasks, and even if Celeritas disapproved entirely I would still count all these evenings of ours profitably spent.’
He at last soothed Temeraire to sleep and himself dozed off by the dragon’s side; though it was early September, the summer’s warmth was lingering, and he took no chill. Despite all his re assurances to Temeraire, Laurence himself was up and alert by first light, and he could not wholly repress a degree of anxiety in his own breast. Most of his crew were at the breakfast table as early as he was, so he made a point of speaking with several of them, and eating heartily; he would rather not have taken anything but coffee.
When he came out into the training courtyard he found Temeraire there already in his gear and looking over the valley; his tail was lashing the air uneasily. Celeritas was not yet there; fifteen minutes passed before any of the other dragons of the formation arrived, and by then Laurence had taken Temeraire and his crew out to fly a few circuits of the area. The younger ensigns and
